


Watching Over Him

by nindroidzane



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: M/M, centrist ghost, idk what im doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nindroidzane/pseuds/nindroidzane
Summary: Anti-Radical thinks about the Centricide after his death
Relationships: Moderate Lee/Horseshoe Centrist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Watching Over Him

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda weird

Moderate Lee looked very upset.

He always had been the type to get overly fearful about everything. The extremists, while he _hated_ them to his core, had never been something to be afraid of. 

The anti-extremist raised a hand to his own chest, running intangible fingers across bullet wounds that would never heal. 

That's what he'd believed, at least. Before he'd been shot to death by one, right in front of his brother.

Now, fortunately, the moderate was being comforted by Horseshoe Centrist. While he'd never been a huge fan of their relationship while he was alive, he was grateful now for the man. He would surely be powerful enough to protect the timid centrist.

"They'll just kill you, too…" Moderate Lee whimpered, threading his hands through his hair in distress. He wished he could reach out and comfort him. 

"Oh, c'mon." The moderate's boyfriend chuckled. "They ain't that strong."

"They were strong enough to kill Anti-Extremist!" His brother burst into tears, burying his face in his hands. "A-and that was only one of them!"

The centrist felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn't have let that fucking Ancap kill him so easily. He could have been with his brother right now, one of their enemies dead and the Libertarian converted to their team. Instead, he had left him and everyone else vulnerable, and with more opposition than ever. 

"Hush now, c'mon." Horseshoe Centrist had Moderate held tight in his arms now, as if a hug could keep him safe from all the threats that loomed over them. "He brought a knife to a gun fight. It was just bad luck, is all."

The words sounded weak and stupid to him, but it seemed to calm the sobbing centrist down a bit. He'd been reduced to just sniffling and hiccuping into the older man's shirt, but he still looked as miserable as he did crying his eyes out.

"What if something happens to you…?" He sniffed, sounding very small and distressed. Anti-Extremist's heart ached. 

"It won't." Horseshoe Centrist stated matter-of-factly. "I'm sure of it. And besides," He ruffled the small centrist's hair. "the way I see it, there's no difference between me defeating the extremists, and you defeating the extremists."

Moderate Lee's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "M-me?!" He yelped, then cowered slightly and repeated more softly. "Me? Defeat the extremists? H-Horseshoe, you know I could never-" 

"I think ya could." The cowboy pecked his cheek. "I'm sure your brother thought ya could, too."

Guiltily, Anti-Extremist shook his head. "He couldn't. Not Moderate." He mumbled to himself, coming closer to brush his ethereal fingers against his brother's shoulder. "There's no way."

Moderate Lee shivered at the touch, pressing up closer to his boyfriend. He looked up at him thoughtfully. "You think so?" He whispered. 

"Mmhmm." The centrist was wiping away Moderate's tears. "We all believe in you, kiddo."

The small centrist smiled softly. "Thank you…" He whispered even quieter, embracing the other with a tight hug. "But I still don't want you to die…"

"Oh, 'course not." Horseshoe Centrist chuckled. "I'm not goin' anywhere. Just lettin' ya know that if I did, you'd be perfectly fine." He ruffled Moderate's hair more playfully, lightening the atmosphere a little. 

The two tussled gently with each other, Moderate Lee sufficiently comforted. But Anti-Extremist, still standing invisible to both of them, remained troubled. He didn't have as much faith in the old centrist as his brother seemed to, and if the extremists got him out of the way, Moderate was definitely doomed. He doubted Radical Centrist would protect him at all, and any of the four extremists they were facing would crush his anxious brother easily. 

He hung his head, unwilling to watch his brother enjoy himself when he knew the cruel fate he wouldn't surely succumb to. He clenched the handle of his knife, carried with him into death, reminding him of his failure. It wasn't fair.

The happy laughter rang in his ears. He could only wait, utterly powerless, for it to be replaced by screams.


End file.
